Mother Jennifer P. | Teen Ink

Mother Jennifer P. MAG

By Anonymous

     Some of my mother's belongings are still in her dresser. Several pieces of jewelry and small statues of the Virgin Mary remain. Sometimes I go into my father's room and look at these things, trying to keep the memory of my mother intact. I look at her jewelry and can see her wearing different pieces, things I bought her for Mother's Day, for Christmas, or for her birthday. I find cards I don't even remember giving her; she kept every one, just as I do. It feels like just yesterday that I was watching her apply her make-up before going to dinner or out dancing with my father.

A few of her things strike me more than others: a receipt for a brown wig and a piece of paper with the results from one of her checkups. I want so badly to understand what happened when I was a child. I want to see it from the perspective I have now, rather than when I was ten years old. I want to understand.

I love to look at pictures from my childhood. I try to remember the simple times before those less-than-simple times. Every day was exciting. Mom wouldn't let her family slump around, she was a lively person full of creativity; she was the one behind the vacation plans and Halloween costumes.

For my first Halloween, I was a bunny rabbit. I had a white headband with two big white ears sticking up, a fluffy pink coat with pink sweatpants, white shoes, with whiskers made with black eyeliner. I don't know how I was able to stand up with all the gear. My mom made sure I was a warm bunny. For my second Halloween, I was Minnie Mouse. Elaborate costumes were an October ritual.

My mom would tuck me in before I went to sleep each night. She would sit on my bed and we would talk about anything, or she would tell me silly stories. Then she'd rub my head until I fell asleep. Having her next to me gave me security and love. One night she actually slept on the floor next to my bed because I wasn't feeling well.

I remember that after watching my favorite movie, "Little Women," I made the comparison between scarlet fever and cancer. I said, "You know how scarlet fever was deadly at that time, but now it can be taken care of easily? Cancer is deadly now, but maybe in the future a person will just be able to take a pill and be healthy again." I wonder what my mom thought about that, coming from her nine-year-old daughter.

I love my mom, and always will. I wish she were still here, especially now. I feel like I need her now more than ever. It's difficult, but we do what we have to do to keep going. Losing a mother is something I'll never get over. Sometimes I think people are sick of me talking about it and I wonder if I should stop since it is a thing of the past, but it never will be. I'm just thankful I had those 10 years.

Similar Articles


This article has 1 comment.

i love this so much!